


warm on a cold night

by ancientfeelings



Series: Mugs and Bunnies [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Hair Braiding, Keith has a cold, M/M, Movie Night, and lance takes care of him, klance, ridiculously big mugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-17 05:10:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16509953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancientfeelings/pseuds/ancientfeelings
Summary: “Will you braid my hair, too?” Lance startles. His eyes focus on the three girls hoping around and braiding the golden hair, and then his gaze falls on Keith. At some point in his mini-crisis, Keith had continued to watch the movie, and now those deep indigos were staring up at him, awaiting.“Now?” he says dumbly, because what?What is up with him today?Or: Keith has had enough of Lance's oblivious-ass and decides to be less subtle around him. The fever helps him as well.





	warm on a cold night

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is a poor excuse for fluffy klance, but it is what it is.  
> The title comes from the song [Honne - Warm on a Cold Night](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CX5f0NcqlMs)

 Lance’s bones are freezing. He swears, his blood is as good as ice. Why does it have to be November again, and why does Keith have to live so far away from his place! Curse his perfect TV and his perfectly neat apartment.

He huffs, white, warm cloud escaping from his mouth and disappearing in the cold air. He pulls his scarf higher, completely hiding his frozen nose in the soft fabric.

Lance’s steps are quick as he bolts up the stairs, eager to be wrapped by the warmth of Keith’s apartment. His icy fingers are shaky, making it hard to adjust the key to the lock, but a relieved sigh escapes from him as soon as the door cracks and Lance is met with the warmth he’d been yearning for.

“Jesus,” he breaths. “I swear, it’s the freaking ice age out there. Since when are the beginnings of November this cold?” Lance complains as he toes his boots off, tiny snowflakes melting into small drops of water on the toe caps.

He walks into the kitchen and immediately starts making some hot tea. His fingers are aching from the brutally cold air outside. Can’t he listen to Hunk just once in his life?

  
_Gloves, Lance, I know you’ll regret not taking them when your fingers will be turning blue_ , he had said and fuck if he wasn’t right.

“You’re lucky your apartment is the perfect place for Disney marathons, otherwise there wouldn’t be a single chance of me going outside in this kind of weather,” well, that’s not entirely true, he’d march into the sun if Keith asked him to, really. He’s weak, okay?!

He pours hot water in one of Keith’s comically huge, yellow mug, dotted with a lighter shade of stars.

 _They’re ridiculous,_ Lance had said, _no one needs this amount of- of any kind of drink!_

 _They’re the perfect size,_ Keith had argued back, _I can just make one huge mug of coffee instead of three small cups._

_Caffeine will be the death of you, Kogane._

Lance turns to the kitchen door, stirring the spoon with a concerned look when he finds himself still being alone.

“Keith?” he calls. “You’re home, right?”

For a moment, the place is drowning in silence, before a weak, tired rumble breaks the air.

“Hmm.”

Lance pads into the living room. “What are- bro,” he stops at the sight of his friend. “Are you… okay?”

“No,” his voice is muted by the tissue as he roughly blows his nose.

Keith’s on the couch, cross-legged and is frowning down at his physics textbook. His eyes are bloodshot, bags dark and heavy underneath them and his nose is red from the intense wiping.

“Yeah, I can see,” he places the mug on the coffee table, slowly approaching the couch. “Buddy, did you take any medicine?” Lance lays his palm over Keith’s forehead; the boy only looks up at him. He’s burning.

“No,” he sniffs. “It’ll go away on its own,” he croaks with a sore voice and sniffs again.

“Keith, you’re burning,” Lance says, voice dripping in worry and he quickly reached for the tea when the other boy shudders. “Here, drink this.”

“Lance- “

“Actually, no,” he cuts him off and places the yellow bowl-of-a-mug back on the table. He grabs Keith by the arm and drags him on his feet. “We gotta take care of… this, first,” he gestures at him and pushes him towards the bedroom.

“Lance, stop being a mom,” he groans, but makes no effort in retrieving his arm back. Maybe he’s too sick to be bothered, maybe he genuinely enjoys Lance taking care of him.

  
Lance hopes it’s the second reason.

He opens Keith’s bedroom door and gasps angrily as coldness smashes against his face. He slams the door shut.

“Are you serious?” he exclaims, furrowing his brows at the confused boy.

“What?” Keith tilts his head in question, and sniffs again.

“What? WHAT?!” Lance dramatically raises his voice. “Why is your room a fucking freezer?”

“I like fresh air, Lance,” he even has the audacity to roll his eyes. “And it’s not that cold.”

“Do you sleep with open windows?”

“…no.”

“KEITH!” he throws his head back, groaning. “No wonder you look like shit. I bet you don’t even dry your hair and sleep with it being wet,” he jeers and nudges him to go to the opposite way.

“I- “

“I don’t want to hear your worthless excuses, mullet,” he cuts him off, pushing him throw the bathroom door. “Now, take a hot – and I mean bone-meltingly hot – shower, you gotta wash those germs off and get warmed up,” he says and points at his thin shirt, before turning to set the water to the highest temperature.

Lance hears Keith sigh and turns to him. Keith’s looking at him with tired eyes, probing something on his face before glancing away. He slides the shirt off and Lance gulps, heat traveling from his neck at the sight of Keith’s bare chest, and he finds it hard to look away.

“You gonna leave or are you planning on staying?” Keith smirks, voice teasing and low and his husky voice from the cold is _not_ helping.

Is that… did Keith flirt? With _him?_

Lance swallows. _Pull it together._

“I’ll bring you some clothes, don’t you go near that room until it’s safe from freezing your face off!” he pokes a finger to Keith’s chest. To make a point, of course, and _definitely not_ for the sake of just touching Keith.

“You’re being way too dramatic over my room,” he says from the closed door.

Lance walks into the Arctic, aka Keith’s room, and closes the window, grabs the warmest clothes Keith has – and is that a new hoodie? He grabs it too – and walks back out, letting out a shaky breath. How the hell did Keith manage to sleep there? Might as well sleep in a bathtub full of ice.

Lance knocks at the door and opens it when Keith hums in consent. “I brought clothes,” he says, using all of his willpower not to sneak a peek at the foggy curtain.

“Okay,” Keith replies.

“And don’t stay there too long, you’ll get worse,” he adds and hears Keith’s "okay, mom" before walking out and making his way to the kitchen.

Keith is slouched on the couch, dressed in the warm sweater and sweatpants Lance had brought for him, when Lance returns with another ridiculous bowl-mug in his hand. Keith is tiredly staring at the textbook, then he sighs and puts it under the coffee table.

“Here,” says Lance and stops in front of him.

Keith stares at the red mug and his frown deepens with each passing second.

“I don’t like drinking tea,” he says, but takes it from Lance anyway.

“It’s good for your throat,” he explains. “You sound almost as shitty as you face. Almost, still nothing can out-shit that thing you call a face.”

“Might as well confess your undying love for me,” Keith deadpans and grabs the remote, clicking throw familiar Disney movies.

“And why do you have three different brands of tea if you don’t like it?” Lance asks to change the topic and hold back the blood from rushing to his face.

“Because you always complain when I have nothing but coffee,” he says and blows at the hot liquid.

“Awww, you’ve been buying them for me?” he coos, placing a hand over his heart to mimic how touched he is.

“Shut up,” Keith murmurs and Lance catches how his cheeks get slightly darker.

He also notices the pleased expression ghost across Keith’s face as the hot liquid washes down his, possibly – definitely – aching throat.

“Okay, now where are the pills?” he walks away, looking around for the first aids. “You’ve got Ibuprofen or something, right?”

“Lance, can we just watch the movie,” he hears Keith say tiredly. Honestly, he just _has_ to be difficult. Lance doesn’t stop looking, though. “You won’t find it,” Keith adds and it’s a poor attempt, because that is the dumbest thing. Keith’s apartment is so clean and organized, you’d have to be a different kind of stupid to be unable to find things here.

“Watch me,” he says back and after checking the bathroom he goes to invade the kitchen.

He soon finds the medicine on the highest shelf of the cupboard and yells out a small victory _aha!_

Lance returns with the pills and a glass of water, face beamed with a smug grin.

“Ugh,” Keith groans into the mug before taking another sip, leaving his lips on the golden rim as he murmurs. “I hate swallowing pills.”

“As long as it’s just pills,” Lance says, taking the mug away from Keith and giving him the cup of water instead, all the while ignoring his glare. “Now, open your mouth.”

“Like hell I will,” Keith growls through gritted teeth and tries to take the pill away. But Lance is fast and this is too much fun to let Keith ruin it.

“Come on, Keith! Let me take care of you, it’ll help you get better,” Lance whines. He pouts and puts on his best puppy dog eyes.

“On which planet is that a logical thing?” he says, unamused. But the blush is back and Lance is a little too satisfied with it.

“The power of love has it’s miracles, Keith, everyone knows that,” he points his index finger up in the air, as if it will prove his statement right. “Even that Mothman of yours would, probably, know about this, it’s universal.”

“Can I just take the pill like a normal person and get it over with?” he says, annoyed and exhausted, and Keith carves his face into something downright painful. It’s almost enough for Lance to back down, almost.

“Open your mouth and you’ll get over it,” he sing-songs, lifting the hand in front of Keith’s face, twirling the pill between two fingers.

Keith groans, he looks up at the ceiling with one arm thrown in the air and dramatically utters "why me?"

“Such drama over a single Tylenol,” Lance shakes his head with feign disappointment.

“Just-” Keith starts, but instead of finishing, he abruptly grabs at Lance’s wrist and places the pill in his mouth.

  
The pill. And the two fingers holding it.

Lance makes a choked noise and Keith – the fucking moron – makes sure to grab the pill with his tongue, sliding it between the fingers to take a hold of the medicine. He slides his mouth back and off, starting to gulp water like he didn’t just end Lance’s world.

“Happy?” Lance hears him say and is, somehow, able to pull himself together. “Aw, you okay, lover boy?” he teases and _what the hell is up with him today?!_

“Gross, dude,” he squeaks and choughs to get his voice back. “Now I gotta wash your germs off, you butt.”

“You asked for it,” Keith shrugs and turns back to the TV, his smirk not wavering.

Lance makes his way to the bathroom, bumping his leg on the corner of the coffee table as the sensation of Keith’s hot mouth still lingers on his fingers.  
He thinks he heard Keith chuckle.

Lance locks the door and leans down over the sink, watching the drops of water nested on top of the white marble. His eyes flick to the right, gaze landing on his fingers.

Fuck.

He quickly washes his hands with cold water and as the heat in his cheeks doesn’t go away, he slaps his cold hands on them. His reflection stares back at him – face still flushed and a confused, lost look in his eyes.

If he’s getting the right signals… but then again… but- ugh!

Lance shakes his head, he’ll think about this later. Right now, he has a movie to watch and feverish Keith to take care of – which would be a bit troublesome, as in for the south region, if Keith continued to act this way.

He makes a quick stop in Keith’s room, which has gotten a lot warmer, thankfully, and grabs two blankets.

“Are you wearing my hoodie?” asks Keith when his eyes fall on Lance.

Lance grins. “Yup,” he pops the ‘p’ and places the blankets next to Keith, only to grab the top denim one and unfold it, shaking it couple of times. “Should’ve known better than to buy a blue hoodie.”

“Hm,” he hums and trails appreciative eyes where the blue fabric meets the tan skin.

“Sit up,” Lance tells him and Keith can barely look up at him when Lance wraps the boy into the warm cover. He tucks the soft material around the edges, turning him into a human sushi roll.

“Lance!” the blanket whines and soon shoots him a pouty frown. Lance giggles, it’s just too adorable. “I’ll melt.”

“You’ll be fine, I can’t risk you getting worse,” Lance waves him off and reaches for the red blanket.

“So, instead you’ll boil me to death?” he grumbles and tries to jerk away as the second blanket snakes his way around Keith’s shoulders.

“Yes, and stop leaning away,” Keith only leans further, causing a sigh to escape Lance’s throat.

“You sadistic asshole!” Keith groans, trying to wiggle his way out of the burning covers. But Lance has had enough practice with his nieces and nephews. Keith stands no chance against him.

“Help a man out and they call you a sadistic asshole,” he shakes his head, now locking the red blanket tightly around Keith. “There,” he says with finality. “Now you’re a human burrito.”

“At least let me have my hands back,” he pleas and Lance does so.

“A human burrito with hands,” he adds after Keith’s hands are functional.

“Remind me why we’re friends again?” a scowling face barks from the covers, but there’s no real heat in his words.

“Because you love me,” Lance lifts his chin in a proud way, then starts gathering the army of tissues around the couch and throws them away.

“Who said I love you?” he teases and Lance can hear the smirk in his sore voice even with his back turned at him.

“ _The eyes, Chico. They never lie_ ,” he quotes and grins as a cackle bubbles from Keith.

“Can’t believe I’m hanging out with someone, who quotes Scarface,” Keith mutters, but the undertone is fond and warm, sparkling something like sunshine in Lance’s chest.

  
“I know, I wish I knew someone as cool as me,” he turns and shoots him finger-guns.

Keith scoffs and whispers something under his breath, but Lance is already in the kitchen, gathering some snacks for the movie marathon.

He returns with two bowls of popcorn, a can of soda for himself and another comically big mug of tea for Keith – he has a whole collection of it. He sits next to the boy, offering him the warm, blue mug and smiles at his shy "thank you".

“So,” Keith sniffs and blows at the hotness in his hands. “Do you have a movie in mind or will it be like the last time?” he asks and nods at the screen in front of them.

 _Just pick the goddamned movie, Lance,_ Keith had snapped. _It’s been forty minutes!_

 _I’m trying, okay!_ he had barked back.In the end, Lance had picked Star Wars, something they’d seen a million and five times and Keith locked him in the bathroom for half an hour.

“Tangled!” Lance crows excitedly. “I know it’s not the best of Disney, but I haven’t seen it in a while. Besides, Flynn is an icon.”

“Sure,” he hums. “I like the unicorn guy more, though,” he says and takes a small sip.

Lance makes sure to engrave that sight in his mind, adding another material to his _Keith Is the Cutest Little Shit_ folder. He _is_ cute, with messy hair underneath the layers of blankets, his pink-tinted face, his adorable way of sipping the tea – and the fact that Lance had made it for him only makes it better – and with the way he’s wrapped into the Christmas themed, red layers of wool, making him look like an adorable little, Christmas themed human-burrito.

How adorable can a single boy be, huh?

“What?” Keith is suddenly asking, and Lance blinks himself into reality.

“Huh?”

“You’re staring at me,” he says before scrunching his face. “Is my nose running?” he doesn’t wait for the answer, just grabs a tissue and wiped the tip of it.

“Uh, yeah,” Lance stutters, feeling the heat creep up from his neck. He focuses on the movie then, embarrassed at being caught admiring Keith for the hundredth time since he developed a crush on him.

As Pascal stick its tongue in Flynn’s ear for the second time, Lance feels something heavy on his side.

“Sorry,” Keith blurts out, leaning away as his sleepy eyes struggle to stay open.

“You can lean on me, if it’s more comfortable,” Lance offers and prays that his cheeks are his normal shade of caramel-brown.

Keith snaps his gaze up at him.

“Sure?” Keith says after a moment of hesitation.

“Yeah, man, you already feel like shit, at least have a comfortable spot,” Lance shrugs and smiles.

Keith furrows his eyebrows, as if weighting the cons and pros of Lance’s offer, before scooching closer and placing his head into Lance’s lap, folding his legs up close to his chest.

Okay. Okay, yeah okay.

Lance gulps and thanks the powers that Keith can’t see his face, because holy shit, he must be blushing like a school girl.

“Your legs are pointy,” Keith says. “Do you even have flesh, or is it just your tooth-stick bones?”

Lance gasps. “Excuse! I have a great, muscly figure, thank you very much!”

“And here I thought this would be comfortable, mistake of the year,” Keith continues to tease.

“Hey,” Lance smacks at his blanket-covered scalp, but not too hard. He probably has a headache. “Be grateful, you piece of Trump’s fingernail.”

“That’s…” Keith makes a theatrical pause. “The meanest thing, Lance. I’m actually hurt.”

“Yeah, sorry that was a bit too much,” he says and pats on his head in the form of an apology. “But it’s a great insult, though. I should use it on Lotor when he’s being a dick.”

“Definitely,” Keith’s voice comes lazy, with notes of sleep in it.

“You can sleep, if you want.”

“Mmh,” a lazy hum. “I’ll try, my head hurts.”

Lance looks down from the screen, eyes landing on the dark locks splayed across his thighs. He can see Keith’s nose peaking from the covers, the curved tip of it colored in a soft shade of red, and if he looked close enough, Lance could discern his freakishly long lashes, too.

“Want me to pet the pain away?” Lance jokes, but his voice carries the wishful undertone.

Keith nods.

Huh?

Lance is not expecting _that!_ He had never even touched Keith’s hair before, yet alone pet him. They _are_ close friends, but Keith has never been the touchy type. He always jerked away when Lance tucked him in a hug for longer than ten seconds.

Must be the fever talking – or nodding in this case.

Lance must have been still for too long, because soon Keith shifts and glances up at Lance, his face expectant. Like a fucking cat.

“You alive up there?”

Lance blinks and quickly runs his fingers under the blankets, into the silky hair. Keith’s hair is soft. Way too soft for someone who uses the cursed 2-in-1 crap.

 _It’s cheaper and does two jobs at the same time,_ Keith had said when Lance expressed his loath towards the product.

 _Don’t give me that crap! It’s one of the worst_ _mistake humanity has ever made!_ Lance scrunched his nose in disgust.

 _I mean, I’m sure there are worst mistakes than a 2-in-1 shampoo,_ Keith had replied and they went into a long bickering session, discussing each historical mistake they could remember and discerning which one was worse.

“Are you even real?” he says, lightly scratching at his temple.

“What?” Keith turns around, laying on his back. Confused eyes find their way to Lance’s.

“Your hair is so soft, and you basically wash it with a soap,” Lance utters, irritated at how unfairly gorgeous the boy beneath his fingertips was. He slides his hand on Keith’s forehead, trailing further into the thick locks.

“Leave my 2-in-1s alone, Lance,” Keith says, rolling his eyes.

And Lance does so. Only because he wants to enjoy this moment to the fullest, it’s not every day he gets to play with Keith’s hair. The boy basically purrs under his touch, fluttering his eyes close and Lance has to fight the urge to lean down and peck a kiss on him.

It’s not hard to resist though, after all, it’s not the first time he’s had the desire to just grab Keith’s face and kiss him until he was breathless. So, he takes advantage of Keith’s closed eyes and just wanders his gaze across the boy’s face.

They’ve been friends since high school, and their friendship continued as they ended up at the same college. It was fun being around Keith, the boy was as stiff as stone at the beginning, but as their bond grew stronger, Lance found that Keith was someone who believed in Mothman and was really into conspiracy theories in general. Someone who had a dry sense of humor and it took time to really get the hang of it. Someone who liked to exercise and drink insane amount of coffee.

But then Lance noticed that Keith had a nice laugh, and that he felt insanely smug whenever he managed to get that chuckle out of him. He noticed that he really enjoyed watching Keith smile, showing that slightly crooked tooth next to his canine, which Lance started to adore from the moment he first noticed it. He noticed that after being under the sun for long enough, tiny, almost faded freckles appeared on the bridge of his nose, and a few more on his cheeks. He’s been wanting to kiss each of them ever since their first trip to the beach.

And a small attraction soon grew into a gigantic crush. And it has only been growing.

“I did know better,” Keith whispers suddenly, voice quiet under the background noise of the long-forgotten movie, and Lance only catches it by the movement of his lips.

“Hm?”

“Buying a blue hoodie,” he adds and settles his head more comfortably on his lap. “I knew you’d like it.”

Lance feels his heart hammer, staring down at Keith with flushed face. His hands only stumble for a moment before continuing their regular pace, but that moment was enough to twist Keith’s lips upward in a small, smug smirk.

Lance stares at the moving images on the screen, but all he can see are quirked up lips and the only feeling he has is the sparkly sensation in his chest, in his bones, numbing every other part of his body.

Because, this can’t be the fever talking. And if it’s not the fever, then it’s Keith. And if it’s Keith, then…

_I’m gonna lose my marbles._

“Will you braid my hair, too?” Lance startles. His eyes focus on the three girls hoping around and braiding the golden hair, and then his gaze falls on Keith. At some point in his mini-crisis, Keith had continued to watch the movie, and now those deep indigos were staring up at him, awaiting.

“Now?” he says dumbly, because _what?_

_What is up with him today?_

“Yeah,” his voice gets unsure. “I mean, unless you- “

“No, I’ll braid it,” he splutters, almost embarrassingly fast.

Keith sits up, smiling at Lance before shifting so his back is turned to him.

“I didn’t know you liked braids,” Lance hums as his fingers make way into the dark foam of softness. “I didn’t even know you liked your hair being touched in the first place,” he laughs shortly, dividing the hair into three locks.

“I don’t mind if it’s you,” comes the respond, with all of its fondness and glory, and Lance felt the chest of butterflies smashed open inside his stomach.

“Oh,” he squeaks, clears his throat and tries again. “Okay.”

Keith giggles, like that stupid moron knows he’s messing with him.

Lance slides his fingers skillfully, working on muscle memory from all those years of braiding his sisters’ hair. He can feel the heat on his face, because _wow, he’s braiding_ _Keith’s hair!_ He’s never thought much about touching Keith’s hair, but now that he actually is, Lance is drawling the time. There’s a bubble formed around the two of them, warm like being surrounded by fireflies and he really wishes for it not to pop. Buy, with a sigh, he ties the neat braid and pats Keith’s shoulders.

“Done,” he says.

“Thanks,” Keith turns around, while tracing a hand gently over his hair.

He’s about to lean down again, when he suddenly stops, a sneeze escaping from him, which is soon followed by another one. Keith’s nose scrunches and his eyes lock shut and _what is that adorable sound?_ Lance giggles, finding the boy endearing, so he really is not thinking when he says “so cute.”

Keith looks up, mouth only slightly open as he watches in awe and realization dawns on Lance. He flushes and Keith’s gape morphs into a smug smirk for the millionth times this evening, which is seriously not helping with the blushing, as always.

“I mean-” he starts, but is at a loss of words.

Shit.

“You think me sneezing is cute?” Keith teases, voice dripping in smugness.

“No.”

“Hm? You sure?” he lifts an eyebrow, faking a thoughtful look. “Because, just two seconds ago, I think I heard you say, and I quote, _so cute_.”

Lance is on fire. Because, of course his fat mouth can’t just shut! Up!

“I, uh,” he slides his eyes around the room, anywhere but Keith.

Oh, fuck it! “Yeah, okay, fine!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up. “I thought it was cute, it’s not like it’s a secret. You’re cute.”

It’s Keith’s turn to blush, but his smirk remains in place.

“I think you’re cute, too,” he says without a beat and leans onto his shoulder, leaving Lance wide-eyed and agape, his heart doing acrobatics in his ribcage.

“I think your fever is getting the best of you,” Lance weakly pipes and makes a move to stand up and bring another pill, but Keith grabs his arm before he can so much as move a few inches.

“Lance, stop being a prude virgin and get back here,” he grumbles, scowling with his eyes closed and that does it.

Lance moves fast, lifting his hand and holding Keith’s jaw in place, then leans and kisses the corner of his mouth, just barely brushing his lips to the other boy’s.

He makes sure to admire the scarlet of Keith’s face, before slumping back. His arm snakes around the others back and pulls him closer.

“Alright, Kogane,” he says with a sly voice. “Two can play this game.”

And as Keith leans into him with a scoff of "jerk", Lance decides that, maybe, this November is not that bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this dumb fluff, my dudes. Kudos and comments will be deeply appreciated :)  
> I may seem unfriendly here, but I swear I just don't have a lot to say. Hmu on [tumblr](https://yourfriendlyneighborsam.tumblr.com/) and we can chat there :3


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